Kay so, I've been working on some stuff (aka writing a bunch of short stories) so I can enter this contest for the state of Florida. My favorite one so far is the one I'm about to show you... Its sorta deep in some parts, and it can get a bit confusing but I still love it, and once you get to the end it might make a bit more sense... so here ya go! (I would love feedback on it as well [oh and if there are spelling and grammar mistakes ignore them, I haven't gotten it proofed yet...])
What I don’t understand is how I came to lie here, on this musty, rotting ground I’ve come to call my home. I suppose it’s all a matter of fate. But this room, it’s become my own little world, a realm of desire, depression, but more so a deepening pit of worthlessness. Even as I lay here, unable to move a single muscle, unable to do anything other than breathe, breathe and blink, I know that freedom is out there somewhere. It feels so close and if only I could just reach a little farther. If only I could just lift my body closer towards it. If only I could delve into its beauty and bask in the warmth. If… If only.
******
Trees fluttering within the breeze, twigs and leaves crunching beneath my feat, the smell of pine and wood chips burning off in the distance; these were the pleasures I used to know and love. I would walk down the beaten path of my drive and absorb all life had to offer, not always recognizing the simple pleasures though, for then I was a tad naïve, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t still cherish my time spent on that path.
Sometimes, if I was lucky, a boy about my age would walk alongside me and enjoy these moments as well. We would reach the end of the path, and just before I would turn around to walk again, he, Ryan Moss, would place his hand gently on my arm, and I would gaze upon him and smile as he caressed my face tenderly into a kiss. I would sigh contently and within seconds we would be walking again, towards the other end to make the round and kiss once more.
It sounds perfect doesn’t it? And it was. Even regarding the fact that never once did we commit to a single thing, never once were we ‘together’ and never once did we leave that beaten path with one another; it was exactly what we both wanted. But Ryan was only a small part of that life. He only existed when he wished or when we were both alone, and for that I was grateful.
When I was not out making the rounds along the path, I was relaxing in my room of the modest house my parents occupied and owned. I would perch myself carefully on the window ledge that extended briefly onto the roof of my house. There is where I would reflect on my days and dream of what the future held.
I could dream for hours on end of what my future had in store for me. These dreams could range from climbing Mount Everest to living a simple life at home with a husband and two kids. Always were these dreams pleasant and hopeful, for never once in my life had I been a pessimist. I was raised to see the good in life, and because of it I never recognized the prejudice and hatred that the world had bestowed among itself.
Maybe that was why I would never see fate coming, but maybe that’s why I’m just barely alive…
Although I seemed to spend much of my time at home or along my drive, that didn’t mean that I would be considered anti-social. The situation was quite the contrary actually. I had many friends, my closest being a girl named Jenna Bain. I’ll be honest, she was on the verge of being considered the town slut, not necessarily because she had the most experience (for she truly had none) but a more accurate reason being that she was just plain gorgeous. She had flawless skin, a small frame, and she had an innocent but flirty personality. I can honestly say there wasn’t a male in that town who didn’t at least once think about getting in her pants. I’m sure her role as being perfect had something to do with my future, but it’s certainly not her fault.
Jenna had invited me to go with her to a party a couple towns over that a few male friends of hers were throwing. I had been to many parties hosted by male ‘friends’ of Jenna before, and typically they ended with us socializing for a couple hours, then engaging in a couple drinking games, and finally heading home after deeming the party “too wild and horny”. And even though there were more than a few instances when I wanted to leave within the first hour, I would always leave that decision up to Jenna, for when she was with me, I felt that I was out of harm’s way.
As the weeks wore on though, the number of parties Jenna and I attended increased. And while the parties increased so did the distance between us. Towards the end of my life in the past, Jenna had taken a stronger interest into her ‘friends’, and that left me spending many parties alone in a room with a large number of drunken teenage boys. I think you can understand why I saw this situation as an unpleasant one.
At first I made an attempt to exclude myself from the situation by sitting alone in a corner and never making eye contact with people I didn’t know, but soon afterwards that idea became unappealing and I wished to fit in. Attaching myself to whichever guy seemed to be the life of the party; I would end the nights drunk and on the verge of collapsing when Jenna and I would drag ourselves out of there. It was entertaining I suppose, but again, every male in the party was only looking for someone to share a car or a bed with for an hour.
On one chilly Friday night though, Jenna and I would set out for a party, and one of us would not come back. This particular party was about thirty minutes north of our small town, located in a wood. We thought nothing of the location at the time, but now I understood the setup.
We arrived in what appeared to be early, seeing as there were only 4 guys there. The host promised more people would arrive soon, but I should have known then this was all a hoax. Much to my surprise more people did arrive, Ryan Moss being one of them. But after an hour the total turned out to be a rousing six guys, not including myself and Jenna of course. At this point I believe Jenna had seen what was coming, but I was already a tad too tipsy to realize it. As we all filed into the small wood house, I observed that it must have been an old hunting cabin, for there were many heads of deer lining the walls, and there were at least six rifles placed meticulously around the room.
The split second everyone had entered the cabin, the door clicked and I heard the echoing sound of a deadbolt shift into its place in the door. It was then that I understood the danger. There would be no party tonight, only terror.
Slowly but surely, the boys began herding us into the corner of the small cabin, and soon they were close enough to smell the distinct scent of alcohol on their breaths. I scanned the room frantically once more as the first one, the host, dove for me. Ducking, I scampered over to the door, fumbling with the deadbolt, which was now jammed shut. Jenna was quickly grasped by a smaller boy, who although was taller than her, did not surpass her in strength. Ryan, who also seemed to be heavily intoxicated, came towards me with a rage in his eyes. Tugging on the door my eyes began to weep and I shook violently. With one final tug I managed to unbolt the door and with a stroke of luck, take Ryan out with it. Flailing, he landed on the wood floor with a thud and struggled to stand back up.
By now Jenna had freed herself from the grasp of her captor and was making a mad dash out the door. I followed directly behind her, but because of my clouded eyes, I could not see well and within seconds I, myself, was on the ground, screaming as a boy grabbed hold of my leg, and crying out to Jenna as she sprinted away. This marked the only moment in my life where I envied Jenna, and her ability to run.
I was on my own at this point, and for a spilt second I realized that there was a great chance that I may not make it. Quickly, I pushed these thoughts from my mind. ‘I will make it. I’ll fight them off and I will escape,’ I told myself. As I thought this, another boy joined the first; taking hold of my other leg and dragging me face down through the dirt, and back into the cabin.
Kicking and screaming, I struggled to break free, with no avail. Ryan, the one person who I always thought I could trust, came back to me and grabbed me by the waist, only to throw me on the couch that was placed in the back of the cabin. My muscles fell weak and even when I mustered all my strength I could not move a single bone. My screams subsided as the tears streamed slowly down my face, the other drunken men moving closer and closer to me by the second.
Ryan, holding me down, allowed the others to expose me, to shred my only layer of protection like savaged beasts, and finally to trade off as the largest of the group held my arms down. There was no need though, for my body refused to respond, and thus it refused to help me save itself.
Finally, Ryan stood, and as he unzipped the fly of his pants, he stared me straight in the eyes, and what I saw before me was not Ryan, the boy I would walk with up and back the drive, stopping to kiss at each turn. No, what I saw was a monster, and as he came to me, I shrieked a cry that I would later come to find could be heard from almost a mile away.
When I awoke, I first believed it was all a dream, and that I was possibly back home in my bed, getting ready to watch the sunrise, but as I looked around once more, I realized this was not the case. In fact I wasn’t near anything that even resembled a bed. I was in what appeared to be a small room, with a frigid dirt floor, and 3 walls made of bare stone, while the last held a door. I had a short glimpse of freedom until at once I noticed the lack of handles on the door. There would be no way out.
Slowly, I inched my aching body into an upright position, only to realize I was not alone. Ryan was in what I would learn to call my ‘cell’ and he too was sitting on the floor, with an ashamed look upon his face.
His eyes flicked towards me and I averted his gaze. We sat this way for a moment, playing a sort of cat and mouse game with our eyes, until finally he stood and headed to the door. Knocking twice, the door opened and a flood of light seeped into the room. He turned around once more and in his eyes I could see regret, and I knew that he was sorry. But it wouldn’t matter.
Five years, I have been trapped in this cell, each day receiving a meal or two, and it has now come to a point where I will no longer move, for I have found that even trying hasn’t gotten me any closer to a solution. I hope each and every day that my captors will let me go, will release me from my state, but I’m sure that day will never come. They know that if they were to ever do such a thing, they would all be tried and convicted for their crimes, and in return would receive years on end in prison. And as each day dwindles to a close, they believe that I may soon die from malnutrition or from just giving up, but no. I will never give up, even as my sight of freedom dissipates into the air. But if some day soon, I regain my strength, and if I see my freedom just once more, and if I receive the chance to turn back time and change the course of actions, I would.
But until then I dream. I dream of my freedom each day, hoping that soon it will become a reality. I dream of the first meal that I will have when I get home, and I dream of all the family I will embrace when I am safe once me. I dream of the day I will finally see Jenna and let her know that its okay and that I don’t blame her, but most importantly, I dream of the day I will be able to walk along the beaten path on a crisp autumn morning, while I listen to the trees rustle and the leaves crunch beneath my feet, all the while inhaling the sweet smell of pine and the wood burning off in the distance.
See! Its not that long at all!! :D
comments anyone?
Subject: New Story whose name I have not decided upon comepletly ... Maybe "Dream"? 
Thu Nov 27, 2008 8:25 pm